


Blush

by seekingsquake



Series: we were young and wild and free [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Asexual Otabek Altin, Embarrassment, Future Fic, M/M, Masturbation, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 05:32:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10483158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingsquake/pseuds/seekingsquake
Summary: He and Otabek have been dating for just over two years. Otabek has lived full time in Saint Petersburg for nearly six months now. Yuri spends the night here in Otabek's apartment with him at least three times a week. He has a key, he comes and goes as he pleases, and he's never once knocked on any of the doors. He's not ready to actually move in yet, still feels an intense anxiety when he thinks about leaving Lilia's, but he practically lives here.This is the first time he's ever accidentally encountered Otabek's dick.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I asked multiple people to tell me not to write this, but they all betrayed me, and so here we are.

His fist moves tight and swift over himself. The head of his cock is damp with precome, his thighs are tense, and he just wants this to be over. Touching himself isn't nearly as satisfying as getting his hands on Yuri, doesn't make him feel good. All it will do is ease the tension in his hips, make the tight feeling in his skin ease up. Banish sensations he wishes he wasn't feeling in the first place.

Training didn't go well today. Victor's a pretty bad coach; it's a bit better now that Yuuri is coming to the rink and helping Victor help him, otherwise leaving his country and his old coach almost wouldn't be worth it.

Almost.

Being able to see Yuri pretty much whenever he wants makes it more than worth it. But fuck, even thinking of Yuri at a time like this isn't helping. Thinking of Yuri while he's got a hand around his cock makes him feel sort of perverse. Yuri isn't here, Yuri doesn't know, he never  _ asked, _ and his fucking dick is hard but not near ready to be finished with this ordeal.

He groans. It's not a sexy sound. It's an  _ I'm frustrated and don't want to do this anymore _ sound. And he could just stop and let his hard on go away on its own and pretend he never started doing this in the first place, but. That won't help the fact that his bones feel too big for his skin, that it feels like if he makes a movement too large or too fast, he'll rip at the seams. So he tries to clear his head and just finishing rubbing one out. It's no big deal. He's just masturbating like any adult has the right to do within their home. It's whatever.

He manages to clear his mind, and he keeps working at it, and it's almost over. He's close. Close, close, close, almost--

And then the bedroom door bursts open, and Yuri says, "Holy fuck!" and the door slams shut again. 

His whole body seizes up, but he doesn't come. He thinks he might have shouted, but he can't be sure. His cock deflates in his hand like it's embarrassed. His skin feels like it's on fire. He rolls until he's under the blanket, his workout shorts tangled around his thighs. If he never sees the light of day again, it will be too soon. He presses his face hard into his pillow, but it doesn't make him feel better because his pillowcase sort of smells like Yuri's shampoo. 

He groans. It's still not a sexy sound. Now it's a  _ will killing myself make this less embarrassing _ sound.

 

✧✧✧

 

Yuri braces himself over the kitchen sink for a long moment before taking a deep breath and pouring himself a glass of water. He drinks the water in three long swallows, then splashes some more water on his face, then presses a fist into his forehead.

He and Otabek have been dating for just over two years. Otabek has lived full time in Saint Petersburg for nearly six months now. Yuri spends the night here in Otabek's apartment with him at least three times a week. He has a key, he comes and goes as he pleases, and he's never once knocked on any of the doors. He's not ready to actually move in yet, still feels an intense anxiety when he thinks about leaving Lilia's, but he practically lives here.

This is the first time he's ever accidentally encountered Otabek's dick.

This is actually the first time he's ever encountered Otabek's dick without any sort of cloth barrier. This is decidedly not how he'd imagined this encounter happening. He had hoped that one day he'd convince Otabek to shower with him, or they'd go on vacation somewhere sweltering, and Otabek would come to bed without any clothes on. But walking in on his boyfriend jerking off had never crossed his mind. 

Yuri presses the backs of his hands against his cheeks, and he can feel himself blushing. Otabek's dick is... really fucking nice.  _ Don't think about it; you weren't supposed to see it, holy fuck. _ But like. Wow. He's felt it before, pressed up against his ass in the morning when they wake up spooning, or against his thigh when he's straddling Otabek and kissing the shit out of him, but. He's never touched it with his hand, never looked at it before. And now he knows. 

Everything about Otabek's physical being is perfect. He's short, but his body is compact. His shoulders and chest are broad, his arms and thighs are thick with muscle, his abs are cut, his jaw is sharp, his eyes are intense, his ass is pert. His feet are ticklish; his fingers are calloused, his palms are wide. His lips are soft. And his dick suits him so perfectly that Yuri wants to scream. On the one hand, he's infuriated because how can one person’s body be so utterly flawless? But on the other hand, he's so fucking smug because Otabek is  _ his _ boyfriend, and when they go out people look at them and are jealous. Girls in clubs drape themselves over Otabek's shoulders, and they look good like that, but Otabek only has eyes for Yuri.

Yuri's eyelashes flutter. He hasn't thought about Otabek's genitals all that much. When they started dating, Otabek had said that he wasn't interested in sex, and in the couple of years since then he hasn't changed his opinion. He's jacked Yuri off on multiple occasions, and he's even gotten his mouth on Yuri a couple of times, but he's never wanted any turnabout or to go any farther, and Yuri has accepted that without question. But now he's seen Otabek's dick. And Yuri wants to stop thinking about it because  _ oh my god you weren't even supposed to see it _ but. It was gorgeous? It was the perfect cock, and it was attached to Otabek, whom Yuri adores. And he can't stop thinking about it. 

Suddenly Yuri's whole body jerks and he stares at the clock on the microwave. He's been in the kitchen for a good twenty minutes, and Otabek hasn't come out of the bedroom. Hasn't even made a sound. Yuri purses his lips before nodding to himself and moving back through the apartment. He stops at the bedroom door and just stands there for a minute, listening. When he still doesn't hear anything, he clears his throat.

"Beka? Can I come in?"

There's a muffled vocalisation from inside the bedroom, but Yuri can't tell whether or not it was affirmative. He's pretty sure, though, that if Otabek didn't want him to come in, he wouldn't have said anything at all, so Yuri opens the door.

The blanket is pulled up over Otabek's chin and tucked around his body tightly, and Yuri almost snorts. He looks like a burrito. Burritobek. But it's not funny, because Otabek isn't the type of person who hides, and he especially doesn't hide from Yuri. Yuri stands in the doorway, uncertain. Should he move to the bed? Should he leave Otabek alone? Should they talk about it? Should they pretend it never happened?

After a moment of Yuri just lurking there, Otabek pokes his head out of the blanket wrap a little more. His left eyebrow is slightly quirked, and his eyes are only just a little tight, but otherwise he looks normal. "Yura?"

Anyone who didn't know Otabek too well wouldn't be able to hear the stress in his voice, but their friendship and subsequent romance has developed mostly over FaceTime and phone calls. Yuri can hear every nuance in the way that Otabek breathes, can read Otabek's silences just as well as his body language. And the way that Yuri's name sounds heavy on Otabek's tongue, just slightly cracks over the last syllable, tugs Yuri across the floor. He crawls up onto the bed and tangles his fingers into Otabek's hair, then moves his hand down to massage between Otabek's shoulder blades. "You okay?"

"How much did you see?"

Yuri bites the inside of his cheek. "Enough."

Otabek makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat and shifts to press his face into Yuri's leg. Yuri hasn't ever seen Otabek this embarrassed before. It's odd; Otabek is usually the more emotionally stable of the two of them, but when he gets rattled he gets really rattled. “I feel weird.”

“It’s not a big deal babe. It’s not like I didn’t know you got yourself off sometimes. I still do it, too, so.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Why not?” Otabek is embarrassed, but he’s also frustrated, and that catches Yuri off guard. 

“Because you do it because you like to. Because you want to. But I don’t like the way it makes me feel, and I don’t like feeling like I have to. And I’m bothered by the fact that you saw me like that because it’s not... When you get off you look hot because you feel good, but if I’m not even feeling good I must look--”

Yuri presses between Otabek’s shoulders a little harder. “Hey. You're always sexy as fuck, so if you’re upset because you think I don’t like looking at you, stop it. I love your body; mostly because you’re in it, but also because it’s an attractive body. So fuck off. I’m mostly concerned about the fact that you just told me you don’t like masturbating, but you still do it even though it upsets you. Like. The fuck is that?”

Otabek’s right arm comes up and out of the blanket burrito, and his hand wraps around Yuri’s ankle. “I don’t know if it makes sense. But sometimes I feel like I don’t fit in my skin. And running doesn’t help, and skating doesn’t help, and ignoring it doesn’t help, and music doesn’t help. Only. You know. And it doesn’t feel right, and I don’t like it, but doing it and then fitting back in my body is better than just hoping that I’ll feel normal again.”

Yuri hums, and then he moves so that he’s laying down beside Otabek. He wants to get under the blanket, but he doesn’t want to push too hard. “Maybe it’s not,” Yuri admits, twining his fingers the fingers of Otabek’s free hand, “but that sort of sounds like anxiety or stress or something.”

“Maybe.”

“I think we could probably find something to make you feel better. Something that won’t also make you feel shitty.”

There’s blatant scepticism when Otabek asks, “Like what?”

Yuri presses right up against Otabek, enough that he can feel Otabek’s body heat through the thick layer of blanket between them. He wraps his arms around Otabek’s head and holds him close, and then just breathes into Otabek’s hair. “Well, if you’re convinced that only an orgasm is going to make your body feel better but you hate touching yourself, I could touch you. You do it for me all the time, so it wouldn’t be weird, and I would die to get my hands on you.” Yuri shifts around until he can press his forehead against Otabek’s, and he kisses across the bridge of Otabek’s nose and then up over Otabek’s brow. “If that freaks you out or you hate the idea of it, I could just give you a really hard back massage to help you relax or something. We could light some candles, put on some chill music. We could run you a bubble bath?”

Otabek huffs, and it’s not quite a laugh, but it’s not quite not one, either. “There’s no bathtub here.”

“Pffft, so? Lilia has like, three bathtubs at the house. And Victor and Katsudon have a fancy soaker tub in their apartment.”

“You’d ask if I could borrow their bathtub just because I’m stressed?” He does laugh this time, and Yuri just kisses him. Swallows the sound almost compulsively.

“Fuck yeah I would. Lilia wouldn’t give a shit, and Katsuki would totally understand, as long as you didn’t mind the concerned puppy eyes he gives you when he sees you.”

When Otabek first moved out to Saint Petersburg and started skating that Yuri’s rink, one of the newer, younger girls who Victor is coaching had skated up beside Yuri and said, “How can you date a guy like Otabek? I don’t think I’ve ever seen his face make a different expression.” Yuri had wanted to smack her. If Otabek’s face appears to be one-note or consistently stoic, you’re not paying attention. Sometimes Otabek looks at Yuri as if Yuri is the reason that the sun comes out, or as if Yuri is the most amazing person to walk the earth, as if if Otabek looks away for even a second, Yuri will disappear. Yuri knows this because Otabek gets a tiny furrow between his brows, and the hinge of his jaw loosens, and his lips just barely part. 

Of course, Yuri would hi-jack Yuuri and Victor’s bathtub if it would make Otabek feel comfortable inside of himself. Yuri would hi-jack a stranger’s bathtub for Otabek, no questions asked, if that would do the trick. But Otabek is looking at him with that bewildered, love-struck expression, and Yuri feels like he’s going to crack underneath the weight of it, so he just kisses Otabek again.

Otabek jerks the blanket out from underneath his body and flings it over Yuri before pulling him flush against himself. His skin is warm, and his breath is hot against Yuri’s neck. He drops a line of kisses across the line of Yuri’s shoulder, over his sweater. He whispers, “I love you,” and Yuri wants to melt away.

They’re not sappy and gross like Victor and Katsudon, but. Yuri will never get tired of Otabek telling him. “I love you too. You still feel shitty? I can rub your back or something.”

Otabek just presses his face into Yuri’s neck. “Maybe in a bit. This is good for right now.”

“You sure?”

“Don’t let go of me,” Otabek says, and it’s probably the most disgustingly romantic thing that’s ever come out of his mouth. Yuri’s whole body flushes, and he holds on tight.

“Okay. I’ve got you, Beka.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you're all just as embarrassed as I am, goddamnit.


End file.
